The following “letter” is part of the continuing series from the unpublished novel by James Garrett, “Benicia Letters Once More”. He does not plan to publish the book but instead is choosing to share the letters with the readers of the Benicia Herald. The letters continue the storyline of Garrett’s first novel “Benicia and Letters of Love”. Each “letter” tells of love in one of its many forms from a separate point of view. Benicia is represented prominently in the letters because of Garrett’s deep fondness for the city of Benicia. He hopes readers see themselves or others they know in the letters because the concept of “Love” is universal.

Mr. Garrett,
Long ago my father told me to not believe everything I read or hear. The man taught me a lot. That was one of the things I loved about him. Through the years I tried to remember all of it, but there is no way I could.
He said in some cases, especially involving the military, people are allowed to see what they are meant to see whether it is the truth or not. He said there were different reasons for that. One reason he gave involving the military was for national security.
While my wife and my mother visited one day when my parents came from Benicia to see us, he and I sat and talked of what he said. It was the last visit we shared. That time was the closest I’ve ever been to knowing the side of my father he hid. I often wonder how much my mother knew. I wonder how much he told her and how much she gained by educated guesses from living with the man all those decades. I very much wish I had learned more, but he told what he wanted me to know and nothing else. He was that kind of man.
In that short afternoon talk my father cited two examples, where what was written on the website he and I researched, were incorrect. The site we researched was for former members of a military organization to which he once belonged. It was a method for them to keep in touch and know how others from that organization did in their service and how they got along in life afterwards.
Anyone can log onto the website. It is easily available. Anyone who is listed at that website can be found there with a little research. They could be searching for information on the man down the street, the mailman, or any other man. All that is needed is for a person to do a search pattern for the military background of the man they are interested in learning about. If they eliminate names until the name searched for matches up with a name on the website they have found the person for whom they searched. In many cases the website will tell hometown addresses, and in some cases photographs will be included. That doesn’t mean it is accurate.
That was ordered by the webmaster’s bosses for a reason. The bosses wanted to avoid any hassle of questions of a man serving in the military by being as open as they could but not by revealing secrets. In some cases what was written made things seem much more pristine than they were. For example, the name of the person is obviously correct, but the location of what was done, when, and with whom are different than what was reality. It was keeping facts hidden while hiding them out in the open.
My father was proud of his service to our country. Before that talk I had been given knowledge of much of that time and those with whom he had served in his youth. He wanted me to know all of that when he allowed me to learn of it. There was so much he didn’t tell me until that afternoon, and still he told almost nothing. He spoke in generalities and with vagueness most of the time, but kernels of fact kept being presented. On one point he was specific. That was when he spoke of the fire in the personnel department in St. Louis in 1973 which destroyed the official files of many who had served in the military. He said much of that file material would never be recovered.
Then he said some of the information on some men would never have been in the files in St. Louis. That information would only be found in the special files of some groups called “Red Border” files. He said those files would never be mine to see. Only those men who were qualified by fact of duty, rank, and time were ever allowed to view them.
Two of whom he spoke had to have been hugely important to his life. I remember him saying “We were good,” with pride, but he didn’t smile while saying it.
As examples, my father told me the truth behind the listings of those two men he had known whose listings he knew were incorrect. He said if a person understood, they could change the name, date, location, and time for men and what they did and then could read what was written as they would a book and discover the truth. It was all a code. The secret was you had to know the secret of doing that. My father knew the secret.
My father’s name and information were right there on the screen in front of us listed alphabetically like all the other men. There were even some photos copied from originals I had seen at my boyhood home in Benicia. He said I wouldn’t find more than a few guys on that entire list of a couple hundred men who knew him. He said their only gathering point was at the website though each was eternally joined by the oath and bonds they shared. The fraternity was the same but within it were small groups which most times acted independently of each other though each knew of the others.
Then my father told me about his listing at the site and the photos shown. He asked me two questions to which I’ve known the answers for years. When he told me to check the dates and places listed, I understood what he was talking about. The dates and places didn’t match up. Time and place were different from what the website stated them to be. He had actually served six years, and not the four I had always thought.
My father never took me into his confidence in some things, which I think he felt was for my benefit. He never showed me any medals or paperwork of his time in the service. He never told me “war stories” or the “bar stories” he also called some of them. I’ve heard similar stories many times in my life in one form or another from other people.
My father never encouraged me to join the military, but he supported my decision. I think he believed I was fulfilling a duty, responsibility, and honor just as he believed.
Just before Mother and Father left to go back to Benicia he took me aside and told me to one day look in the false bottom of a bookcase he had built which stood by the bedroom doors at the end of the hallway. I had walked by that bookcase in that old East Side home in Benicia a thousand times while living there and many times since. I never knew the bookcase had a false bottom or of the secrets it held.
The day came. I looked. All the false bottom held was a large manila envelope the contents of which I treasure.
Rob

James Garrett is a lifelong resident of Benicia and a former teacher at Benicia High School. He is the author of the following novels: “Benicia and Letters of Love,” “The Mansion Stories,” “Chief Salt,” and “One Great Season, 9-0!” He also compiled a three-volume work titled “The Golden Era: Benicia High School Football, The 1948 through 1960 Seasons, “A” History with Comments.”
He can be contacted at jgstoriesnpoetry@aol.com.

Sharing is caring!